Asking for help was simply out of the question.
A girl with backbone slipped into the T-shirt and shorts Shen Wanqing had laid out, then marched out of the room with her chest puffed up and head held high.
Shen Wanqing stood by the window, gazing after her. As expected of a top-tier Alpha—a quick nap, and her stamina bounced right back, leaving her none the worse for wear.
Shen Wanqing, on the other hand, could barely walk without feeling drained, her recovery dragging and her body too lethargic to budge.
The faint, lingering aroma of Ambergris Pheromone filled the room—a blessing for Shen Wanqing.
For her, it was both a stimulant and a sedative.
She rubbed her eyes, flipped through her calendar, let out a yawn, and crawled back into bed for more rest.
Lu Zhixia got home to an empty house.
She remembered her mother mentioning a honeymoon trip; they were probably already en route.
She’d wanted to check in, but her mom had brushed it off, telling her not to worry her pretty little head.
Lu Zhixia had barely settled onto the couch when her phone buzzed.
It was Ye Lanxi calling, gushing over the line about how incredibly dashing she looked.
That’s when Lu Zhixia learned that, with the Shen Family’s approval, the official media had released news of their engagement. She’d shot straight to the top of the Hot Search rankings.
Photos of the two of them together were splashed across the internet and newspapers alike. Rumor had it there was even a magazine feature interview in the works, though she couldn’t care less who they were interviewing.
The trending tag read: #Best Couple’s Outfit of the Year#
The platinum pairing hit her like a lightbulb moment—yeah, in a way, it could pass for a couple’s color scheme.
The comments below were even funnier. A bunch chimed in: Aren’t they sisters? Not a couple!
Others went: Fake sis CP, killing me with the sweetness!
And then: Shameless media, hyping up sisterly love as romance for clicks and views.
Whatever the comments said, the flood of them proved one thing—they’d gone viral.
No one questioned their compatibility or looks. Netizens threw around compliments like confetti: drop-dead gorgeous, nation-toppling beauty, queen has arrived… they weren’t holding back.
Lu Zhixia hadn’t even asked Shen Wanqing for those photos from their motorcycle ride that night. For now, she just wanted to keep her distance; the pictures could wait.
That said, she couldn’t shake this inexplicable craving, this nagging ache of longing.
She couldn’t tell if it was Shen Wanqing herself she missed, or her pheromones. Either way, that face kept popping into her head, snagging her attention every time.
Lu Zhixia chatted with Ye Lanxi on WeChat for a bit. Ye invited her out to the bar that evening—Guan Xiuhe was wrapping up her out-of-town training and would be back.
She checked her calendar. Tomorrow was Monday; time to report to Haijing Senhua.
Today marked her last day of indulgence, a chance to avoid brooding alone at home.
The spot was still Demon Bar. Heeding the lesson from last time, Lu Zhixia steered clear of lighting cigarettes for anyone else.
Ye Lanxi, who’d roped her into coming, got tied up with some last-minute business. The private room held just Lu Zhixia and Guan Xiuhe.
They knocked back drinks and chatted idly—first about Guan Xiuhe’s training topic, something on secondary differentiation in top-tier groups. Then they circled back to that question Lu Zhixia had asked on behalf of her “friend.”
“Has your friend’s issue cleared up?” Guan Xiuhe poured Lu Zhixia a drink. They clinked glasses, and she tossed hers back in one go.
“It’s sorted.” Lu Zhixia coughed twice. “Probably just like you said—her gland was triggered awake by an Omega.”
Guan Xiuhe had always been the steady, mature one in their circle, her emotions tucked neatly away. Yet Lu Zhixia noticed her zoning out several times today, each accompanied by a sigh.
“You’ve been working yourself too hard lately?” Lu Zhixia snatched the glass from her hand. “Spit it out if something’s up. If you’re beat, head home and crash.”
Guan Xiuhe massaged her brow, sighed after a long pause, and murmured, “There is something, but it doesn’t look solvable.”
Lu Zhixia pressed her a few times before Guan Xiuhe came clean: she’d signed up for the training herself because she was facing something similar. “I suspect I’m about to go through secondary differentiation.”
Secondary differentiation in top-tier groups was vanishingly rare—maybe one case in ten million people.
That meant medical literature had no real details on it, let alone solid coping strategies.
No one knew what kind of person it happened to, either.
But those who did experience it showed early signs mimicking a differentiation period flare-up.
Lu Zhixia thought back to her own ordeal at eighteen—pure agony. She never wanted to go through that hell again.
Guan Xiuhe looked lost, at a total loss for how to handle it. “The unknown is the scariest part. I have no clue what’s coming next.”
Lu Zhixia was stumped too. She wasn’t a med student; she knew even less.
“What should we do? Differentiation is bound to affect the gland and marking, right?” Lu Zhixia speculated. Guan Xiuhe shook her head, her face clouded with worry. “I really have no idea, Big Boss. I’m losing my mind over this. All I can do now is pray I don’t go through secondary differentiation.”
Their reunion drinks turned into a somber affair.
Ye Lanxi arrived late and assumed the two had been arguing.
Ever the optimist, she brushed it off. “It’s not that big a deal. Find yourself an omega girlfriend, lay it all out upfront, and if the need arises, just mark your own girlfriend, yeah?”
Lu Zhixia thought outside the box and countered, “How do you know secondary differentiation will turn you into an alpha?”
Guan Xiuhe grew even more despondent at that, her face twisting in misery. “I’ve been an alpha for years now. You don’t think I’m going to differentiate into an omega, do you?”
It was a total nightmare. A gender swap would turn her into a completely different person.
Ye Lanxi offered no comfort and instead teased her. “Guan Guan, don’t take this the wrong way, but with your height and build, you really don’t look like a top-tier alpha.”
Refusing to back down, Guan Xiuhe shot to her feet. Ye Lanxi nudged Lu Zhixia with her foot and grinned. “Big Boss, why don’t you stand up and compare?”
Lu Zhixia towered nearly a head over Guan Xiuhe. When she rose, it felt like Mount Tai bearing down, an overwhelming pressure.
“Seriously, from height to build to sheer presence, you seem more like an omega.” Ye Lanxi’s words had Guan Xiuhe on the verge of tears. “Big Boss, take a look at her.”
“Alright, enough bullying her,” Lu Zhixia said, landing a light punch on Ye Lanxi’s arm. Ye Lanxi didn’t mind and kept going. “And now you’re all whiny and teary—looking even more like an omega.”
Lu Zhixia elbowed her. “Time to ditch those outdated stereotypes of yours. Plenty of top-tier omegas out there who could kick your ass these days.”
Ye Lanxi started to argue but then remembered something and flashed a sly grin. “Heh, Big Boss has a point. Like that one person, right?”
“That one person?” Guan Xiuhe leaned in. “Who?”
“You know, that someone. Ask Big Boss.” Ye Lanxi scooted closer to Lu Zhixia as she spoke, but caught no unfamiliar scents.
Meeting Guan Xiuhe’s gossipy gaze, Lu Zhixia sighed in resignation. “Nobody special. Just Shen Wanqing.”
Guan Xiuhe blinked in disbelief. “Shen Wanqing?”
“You know her too?” Lu Zhixia wondered. How did everyone around her seem to know Shen Wanqing?
“Who doesn’t? One of my senior sisters is her personal doctor. Word is, her family is super, super, super… rich.” Lu Zhixia lost track of just how many “supers” there were.
Both women pressed her to spill what happened after that night. Guan Xiuhe shook her head. “You’ve both changed. Keeping your juicy stories from me now.”
Ye Lanxi told Guan Xiuhe to check the hot search first. Once she did, her eyes lit up even brighter, her inner gossip fiend fully ignited. “Big Boss, what went down between you two? You’re even wearing matching couple outfits!”
“…”
Lu Zhixia didn’t want to talk about it, but with one mentioning Shen Wanqing after another, it left her antsy and restless. Sigh.
She refused to admit it, but her body and mind had begun craving Shen Wanqing. She couldn’t say exactly what for. Right now, she just wanted her—wanted to hold her, kiss her, mark her.
Lu Zhixia shook her head to clear the strange thoughts, downed a swig of alcohol, and summed it up simply. “Shen Wanqing. She’s like my sister now. Our families arranged a marriage alliance.”
“And that night?” Ye Lanxi pressed. Who had taken Lu Zhixia away? She wouldn’t say and forbade any more talk of it.
Everything had started that night. That’s when her life had veered off course.
Lu Zhixia wasn’t one for chit-chat, and knowing her temper, the other two didn’t push further.
Lu Zhixia nursed her drink in moody silence while Guan Xiuhe fretted over her secondary differentiation. Ye Lanxi reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Whatever comes up, I’ll sort it out.”
The more Lu Zhixia drank, the worse it got. To her dismay, the gland at the nape of her neck began to stir, as if awakening.
She stood abruptly, not daring to drink any more. “I’m hitting the bathroom.”
One layer, two, three… She slapped on every inhibitor patch in her pocket before that hot, itchy sensation finally eased.
“Tomorrow’s my first day on the job, so I’m heading out. You two don’t stay out too late.” Before leaving, Lu Zhixia reassured Guan Xiuhe. “Guan Guan, I’ll ask around for you too.”
“Who are you asking?” Guan Xiuhe was pretty buzzed and starting to unravel emotionally. “I’m terrified of turning into an omega. What am I going to do?”
“I have a friend…”
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” Guan Xiuhe’s eyes reddened.
Lu Zhixia sat down beside her and gently draped an arm over her shoulder. “Guan Guan, I’m not lying to you. I have a friend who knows someone—she’s the vice dean at the China Pheromone Drug Research Institute. Xiehe Hospital, where she works, has a Pheromone Evaluation Institution Building. They’re real experts on this stuff. I’ll ask for you, okay? Don’t worry.”
Lu Zhixia stood up, but Ye Lanxi suddenly grabbed her arm and let out a “Holy crap,” before hopping to her feet and circling behind her. “Is this T-shirt and shorts set a limited edition? Where’d you buy it?”
Puzzled, she glanced down at the simple white T-shirt and black shorts she was wearing.
“I tried to get one, but the official store wasn’t selling them. Word is they only gave out a few sets to insiders.” Ye Lanxi bumped her shoulder. “Big Boss, you hit the jackpot and didn’t even tell me.”
Lu Zhixia tugged at the corner of her mouth and spun a ridiculous but plausible lie with a laugh. “Silly, this is just a high-quality knockoff.”
Ye Lanxi tsked and nodded in sudden realization. “Yeah, that tracks. Where’d you find such a good fake? I want one too. I love the design on the back.”
Lu Zhixia casually promised to look into it for her, then hailed a cab and headed home. On the way, her heart felt hollow.
Inhibitors could temporarily keep her gland from awakening, but her craving for Shen Wanqing only grew stronger.
It felt a lot like addiction—a vague, inexpressible longing.
She patted her pocket and asked, “Hey, driver, mind if I smoke?”
The driver glanced back at her clean, innocent face and let out a mournful sigh. “Little girl, why’re you picking up smoking?”
“I’m twenty already, driver.”
He kept saying she didn’t look it and warned her, “Smoke less. It’s bad for your health.”
At least smoking could ease one kind of craving. As for the one for Shen Wanqing, she held back.
Lu Zhixia sent a message to X on WeChat. Predictably, no response.
She was used to this person’s habit of appearing and vanishing without a trace. Once home, she showered, plopped down on the sofa to watch TV, and braced herself for a long wait.
To her surprise, X replied quickly, though the tone was off: Yo yo yo, look who it is. Got time for me now?
Lu Zhixia: ?
X: What, can’t even talk properly anymore? Just question marks?
Lu Zhixia: You okay? Did I do something?
X: Nah, you didn’t. Can’t a girl just be in a bad mood?
Lu Zhixia: If something’s wrong, spill it. Otherwise, just help me with what I asked.
X: Fine, wait all you want. Hmph.
Lu Zhixia thanked her and glanced at the TV screen.
Truth be told, her mind wasn’t on the TV at all. She pulled up hot searches again and saved all the related photos from before to her phone.
Shen Wanqing exuded dignified elegance, her beauty poised and refined, radiating an aloof sophistication that commanded respect. She was the type you admired from afar, never daring to get too close.
It was getting late. Even though she wasn’t sleepy, Lu Zhixia figured she should rest her eyes.
She headed to the door and stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath before leaning in to peer through the cat’s eye.
The brightly lit hallway outside showed no monsters or ghosts lurking. Lu Zhixia let out a breath of relief, locked the door securely, and climbed into bed.
As she rolled over in bed, her gaze fell on the logo on her T-shirt. A quick search online left her jaw dropping at the price tag.
They really weren’t from the same world. Even a marriage alliance couldn’t bridge that class gap.
She had a restless night, her dreams filled with Shen Wanqing laying out condition after infuriating condition, each one making her blood boil.
Lu Zhixia rose early, grabbed breakfast downstairs, shot a WeChat message to her mother, and took her mom’s car to work.
She’d had her own car before going abroad, but after years sitting idle, it was on the verge of scrap. She couldn’t be bothered to fix it.
Stuck in rush-hour traffic, she flicked on the radio out of habit, tuning into the international foreign-language channel. She listened to news from distant lands while practicing her ear.
The inhibitor patch on the back of her neck was a fresh one from that morning—she’d layered on ten, just in case it wasn’t enough.
Her gland stayed dormant, but that addictive craving lingered on.
Lu Zhixia had never been hooked on anything before—not smokes, booze, or fine food. She always kept it all in check.
Being addicted to a person was a strange sensation.
She wondered if addiction rewired the body somehow. Ever since meeting Shen Wanqing, her senses—sight, hearing, smell—had all sharpened, like a system upgrade. Not without downsides, though, like picking up on noises she wished she could ignore.
Shen Wanqing was like a spell. The moment Lu Zhixia quieted her mind, thoughts of her crept in unbidden, pulling her to scroll through photos, check WeChat, scour the web for info.
Too bad there was next to nothing about Shen Wanqing online.
Sigh. So this was what pent-up desire felt like. Lu Zhixia drove to work that morning with her mind elsewhere.
Just as she neared Haijing Senhua, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Shen Wanqing: Need to talk. Hit me up when you’re free.
She had been eagerly looking forward to it, but when it finally arrived, she pushed it away in instinctive resistance.
She had barely managed to hold out all last night, and Lu Zhixia had no intention of breaking her streak now.
On her first day at work, HR walked her through onboarding and handed her the new employee handbook. She flipped through it casually, raising an eyebrow at the rule mandating absolute obedience to superiors. Obey them even if they’re wrong? Jump into the fire pit together?
With more new hires coming onboard in the future, the welcome ceremony would be held collectively at the annual meeting.
Lu Zhixia’s position was set: special assistant to the president. The new president hadn’t arrived yet, so she got the contact info from the HR director—all via Rhine Group’s in-house office software suite.
The chat app Lin·Talk came in internal and external versions. The internal one was company-only, while the external worked with logins from WeChat, QQ, and so on.
Her LT account was already set up, and her contact list held just one name, supposedly the new president: Sirius.
Sirius—the Chinese term for the star, the brightest in Canis Major at night.
Legend said Canis Major was once the loyal hunting hound of the hunter Orion. For a dog lover like her, anything dog-related was an instant win.
Clearly an Alpha, which sparked an immediate good impression. Picking Sirius as an English name? Great taste.
Lu Zhixia took the initiative, introducing herself in English on the LT app. As special assistant, she’d officially started today and was ready for any work assignments.
Her English name was straightforward: Wolf.
She sent a lengthy, illustrated message.
Sirius fired back instantly: Speak Chinese.
Wolf’s mind filled with a row of ellipses as she switched to Chinese.
Wolf: You can call me W. Any work assignments?
Sirius: Yes.
The other person was typing. Then came four words that left her completely dumbfounded.
